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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25741036">Illicit Affairs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/erosandhades/pseuds/erosandhades'>erosandhades</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, But he is soft too, Cheating, Damen is an asshole, Don't Have to Know Canon, I'm Sorry, Laurent is hurt, M/M, Modern AU, OOC, Songfic, Taylor made me do this, they're so in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:35:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25741036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/erosandhades/pseuds/erosandhades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And that's the thing about illicit affairs,<br/>And clandestine meetings and longing stares.<br/>It's born from just one single glance,<br/>But it dies, and it dies, and it dies<br/>A million little times.</p><p>(Taylor Swift's song "illicit affairs" from the album "folklore".)</p><p>Damen is married with someone else, and Laurent loves him with all his heart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Damen/Jokaste (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Illicit Affairs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is not a linear narrative. The events written here are not in chronological order, and that’s the point.<br/>So, we’re following Taylor’s narrative and mine mixed to form this. Just try to follow through with this in mind and I think things will make sense. If not, forgive me, but folklore is not about making sense at all, sometimes, and I wanted this to be raw. Like these events and images popping behind your eyelids when you ask yourself “How did I come to this?” And there's not a breaking point. There is only all this accumulative shit that holds meaning and importance, and sometimes there are big things, sometimes there are only the smallest ones, and they have no order at all, they just are what they are.<br/>Since the first time I heard this song, I wanted to write something that would follow these lines, and that would give this story the images that popped into my head when I heard it from Taylor. The song is so sad but so beautiful, and I think this is too.<br/>Paraphrasing Taylor: “When you love something this much, you should put it out there.”<br/>So there it is. I hope you guys enjoy it!</p><p>P.S I think it would be better if you have ever heard the song once, or read this whilst listening works too. The lyrics here are really important and I think when you hear it, you get a little better of the vibe.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLV2SJKWk4M"> <em> Make sure nobody sees you leave </em> </a>
</p><p>
  <em> Hood over your head </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Keep your eyes down </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The door clicked in the silence of the night.</p><p>His steps were calculated on the wooden stairs, to make sure his movements were not traceable by sound before his boots touched the dead grass behind Damen’s house.</p><p>The cold of the winter only made it easier to use the coat covering all his body and face by the hood. The ground was frozen and his steps were untraceable by the unmoving dirt. No one would ask themselves why would a man be out in the cold of the night with his hoods up and his eyes down.</p><p>It was easier to not be seen. To not be heard.</p><p>No one was in the streets in this hour of the night on a Wednesday in the middle of January, but Damen always asked it for him anyway. </p><p>“Just to make sure you’re safe, baby.”</p><p>Did it matter to be safe, anyway?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tell your friends you’re out for a run </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You’ll be flushed when you return </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey man, how did your run go?”</p><p>Laurent closed the door of his apartment and was taking off his boots when Lazar’s voice came from the living room.</p><p>“It was ok,” Laurent answered while walking now in only his socks to his friend, seated on the couch and watching a Star Wars movie. Again.</p><p>Lazar glanced at him as he heard his steps on the floor before he paused his movie and turned his body to gape at Laurent, now seated beside him on the couch.</p><p>“Jesus, how come you’re so flushed in a night in the middle of January? How much did you run?” </p><p>Images of Damen’s hands came to his mind. Their bodies crashing in the bed in a tangle of limbs, of Damen’s sweat on his skin, of his kisses on Laurent’s <em> whole body </em>— </p><p>Laurent cleared his throat before answering in a quivering voice, “I’m pale, and I’m flushed because of the wind. How did you not know this happens?”</p><p>Lazer shrugged, “Dunno. You never get this flushed when we run together.”</p><p>Laurent hummed before getting up without giving an answer to his friend and going to his bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Take the road less traveled by </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tell yourself you can always stop </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The humming of the car was loud in the quietness of the twilight.</p><p>Laurent looked at the familiar house through the window, only the upstairs window with the lights up. Damen’s shadow was clear through the curtains, and Laurent could already feel his heart beating faster to being so close to him again.</p><p>He has a few minutes before the time Damen expects him to arrive. He always took a detour to come, as Damen asked him too —  “To avoid unnecessary risks, that’s all.” — but not today. Today he came like he always wanted to come. To the way that leads to the front door with flowers and a large apple tree, not to the one filled with dirt and dead grass on the back.</p><p>Today would be the last time he would do this.</p><p>Today he would end things with Damen.</p><p>Laurent took a deep breath, turned the car off, and opened the door to the cold night.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What started in beautiful rooms </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Laurent took a gulp of champagne while laughing at something Jord has said. At least that was what everybody was doing, so it seemed like the right thing to do. He wasn’t paying attention at all to what was happening around him, his eyes glued to the man at the other side of the ballroom.</p><p>Dark eyes, dark skin, dark hair. A huge smile, a warm presence, and such a deep voice, which Laurent could hear from where he was standing, more than 50 feet away.</p><p>And Laurent wanted.</p><p>He was still looking when the mysterious man looked back at him.</p><p>And smiled.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ends with meetings in parking lots </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Damen, I can’t,” Laurent said, sobbing.</p><p>“But—” The lampposts of the parking lot were making the tears sliding from Damen’s eyes golden.</p><p>“I can’t do this anymore.”</p><p>“But I love you,” Damen cried, his arms around Laurent’s body, like his warmth and his smell could persuade Laurent to stay.</p><p>Once that would have been enough.</p><p>“I love you too,” Laurent said among tears and hiccups. “But that isn’t enough anymore.”</p><p>Their foreheads touched in the silence of the night.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And that's the thing about illicit affairs </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And clandestine meetings and longing stares </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It's born from just one single glance </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Looking at Damen’s smile across the office in his cubicle, as he walks by on his way to lunch, is the only thing that keeps Laurent sane, sometimes. Keep him at bay and expectant to their meeting that night. And when Damen looks at him back, his smile broadening by looking at Laurent, he knows Damen feels the same.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But it dies </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you doing this to me?” Laurent screamed in the office.</p><p>“This is not—”</p><p>“It is! You keep showing up with <em> her </em> and parading this shit in front of me like I’m not even there. Do you have no consideration at all?”</p><p>Laurent was trembling and his mouth was quivering in what he knew was a ridiculous pout. He was probably flushed with anger and jealousy too while he was pacing around in the rug, not like Damen at all. Damen looked calm, if not a little hurt too, at his place in the wooden desk of his office.</p><p>“Do you think I like this?” Damen answered calmly, his fists clenched, looking like a kicked puppy.</p><p>This was <em> not </em> fair, acting like he is the victim here. As if he needed to do this type of shit. As if he was the one being hurt over and over and <em> over </em> again.</p><p>Laurent took a deep breath before he could say something he couldn’t take back.</p><p>“I don’t know what to think, Damen,” Laurent whispered.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And it dies </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t do this right now, Laurent,” Damen pushed him back.</p><p>“What do you mean you can’t do this? You can’t talk to me about breaking up with her?”</p><p>Damen was dressing and grabbing his things around Laurent’s room and if it were any other day, Laurent would apologize and tell him to stay, for them to talk things through. But today, Damen’s fucking wife send him a letter threatening to end his application to the promotion in the company if he didn’t stop being “close” to Damen.</p><p>And the worst part of it was that she could do it.</p><p>“You can’t do this when you fucking crazy wife is threatening me? Do you still want to be with her? <em> What the fuck </em>?” Laurent grabbed him by the arm, to turn Damen to him.</p><p>Damen looked tired. He looked apathetic. He looked at Laurent still flushed face from their activities and looked like a dead corpse, when normally that would make him smile.</p><p>“I really can’t, Laurent. Not today.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And it dies </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going to discuss this with you again.”</p><p>“Why are you doing this to me?”</p><p>“Why don’t you listen to me?”</p><p>“Come back here.”</p><p>“I miss you.”</p><p>“Don’t leave me.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A million little times </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Jokaste is pregnant, Laurent.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Leave the perfume on the shelf </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That you picked out just for him </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So you leave no trace behind </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Like you don't even exist </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Laurent looked at the perfume at his cabinet wistfully.</p><p>He knew Damen loved it, first because of the way his eyes darkened when they passed each other in the office today. Laurent noticed it and smiled with a wink, so Damen grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to the cupboard in the hall and kissed him senseless. He went crazy when Laurent told him that he had bought it for him, picking Laurent by the thighs to kiss him even more.</p><p>It was amazing and Laurent smiles fondly at the memory of only a few hours ago. </p><p>He definitely loved it.</p><p>But he remembers Damen’s last words too, as he was nuzzling his neck one last time before leaving the cupboard.</p><p>“Don’t use it tonight, though. I love it, but it’s too remarkable. We can’t risk it, baby.”</p><p>With one last look at his new expensive perfume, he grabs his jumper and leaves.</p><p>It was the first of many rules that would come.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Take the words for what they are </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I love you, but I can’ t break up with her.”</p><p>“I have responsibilities, and you’re not one of them.”</p><p>“This is not for you to know.”</p><p>“Laurent, you need to realize what you’re doing with yourself.”</p><p>“This is not good for you.”</p><p>“Stop it.”</p><p>“This is not about you, kid.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A dwindling, mercurial high </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A drug that only worked </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The first few hundred times </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Laurent would never get enough of Damen. </p><p>They were doing this for a year now, and the taste of him was still his favorite in the whole world. The feel of him, his looks, his words. Everything Damen was. Damen was his favorite.</p><p>They were a mess of limbs and breaths in the bed of the rubbish motel, and if it were anyone else, Laurent wouldn’t even consider putting a foot in that place. But with Damen, he couldn’t notice anything but his kisses, his cock filling him till’ he was blind, his sweat and muscles under his hands. The way their bodies seemed to complement each other, and how Damen whispered the sweetest and dirtiest words ever on his ears, making him feel so loved and desired he was feeling high. On Damen. On what they had. This chemical reaction that blew Laurent’s mind and left him addicted. Aching for this feeling every damn second.</p><p>And he couldn’t get enough of it.</p><p>And he wondered in his post-orgasmic haze, looking at Damen’s sweet smile and even sweeter eyes if one day this wouldn’t be enough.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And that's the thing about illicit affairs </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And clandestine meetings and stolen stares </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They show their truth one single time </em>
</p><p> </p><p>They were looking at each other for what felt like hours. They were laying down on the bed, naked as the way they were born, on their stomachs and just <em> looking. </em></p><p>Damen looked even more beautiful with only the lights from the lampposts of the street illuminating the room, casting gold shadows and highlights on his sculpted body. He looked vulnerable too and loving, and affectionate, and so <em> warm </em> that for a few moments Laurent wanted to cave a house for himself inside Damen, he wanted to be surrounded by the feeling of this adorable and gorgeous man by his side. Or to just hold him forever <em> . </em></p><p>Which was stupid, they just met a month ago.</p><p>Laurent was already falling so hard and he couldn’t see the ground.</p><p>“I’m so scared,” Damen whispered in the quiet of the room, his fingers tracing spirals on Laurent’s flushed cheeks.</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> But they lie </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Where were you?” Laurent asked, sipping his coffee.</p><p>“Just answering a call from work on the balcony, baby,” Damen smiles.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And they lie </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I need to cancel our date tonight. I’m so sorry,” Damen looked really sad about it from his desk at the office.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Laurent smiled, looking down at him and taking his hand. “You’ll make up to me next week, right?”</p><p>“Always, baby,” He smiles.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And they lie </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Are you ok? Do you want to talk?” Damen whispers in their hug.</p><p>
  <em> No. I’m not ok. I hate seeing you with her. I hate not being able to do anything about it. I hate loving you so much that I can’t walk away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I hate that I can’t love myself as much as I love you. </em>
</p><p>“I’m fine, love,” Laurent answered, hugging him that little bit tighter. And if anyone asked, it was because it was cold in the parking lot they were meeting tonight.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A million little times </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing’s wrong.”</p><p>“I can’t tonight.”</p><p>“She doesn’t mean anything to me.”</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And you wanna scream </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don't call me "kid, " don't call me "baby" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t call me that,” Laurent screamed.</p><p>“Why? I call you that all the time,” Damen screamed back.</p><p>“Because I’m not a fucking kid, Damen. I’m not your baby, too. Not anymore.”</p><p>“You don’t mean that,” Damen approached him across the living room.</p><p>“I do. And don’t touch me.”</p><p>Damen’s hands went down and they stood in front of each other, their breathing fast and their eyes expressing all the hurt they felt.</p><p>“I love you,” Damen whispered, his eyes watering.</p><p>And the way he said it broke Laurent.</p><p>“You make me a mess, Damen,” Laurent whispered back.</p><p>“So let’s fix it,” Damen said fiercely, hope once again in his face, lighting it up, and he was so beautiful that Laurent ached.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You showed me colors you know </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can't see with anyone else </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“You ruined me for any other man, Damianos Akielon.” Laurent is smiling in Damen’s mouth, his arms wrapped around his neck and his legs around his waist.</p><p>“I sure hope so,” Damen laughed, carrying Laurent to bed and kissing him. “I don’t want you with anyone else, Laurent. Only me.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Don't call me "kid", don't call me "baby" </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Look at this idiotic fool that you made me </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Stop, please,” Laurent whispered.</p><p>“Now you want to stop?” Damen screamed and his eyes looked a little bit crazy.</p><p>“Yes. Please.” Laurent was sobbing and staring at his own hands.</p><p>“You should have thought about that before you entered that room and made a scene.” He screamed even louder.</p><p>And he was right. Jealousy in their situation was dangerous and he shouldn’t have entered that meeting. That man was a business partner and even if he was hitting on Damen, he should have trusted his lover.</p><p>So Laurent listened to his screaming and cried quietly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You taught me a secret language </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can't speak with anyone else </em>
</p><p> </p><p>They were laughing for hours now. They talked about everything, and for the first time, Laurent saw someone that appreciated him, that he could trust, and that he felt comfortable being his true self. That laughed at his jokes, and that understood what he went through. Someone that seemed able to read him well, and knew how to treat him right. Damen was a prince; charming, funny, smart, affectionate, and everything Laurent ever wished for.</p><p>Their kisses were like heaven on earth. Damen’s touches brought Laurent back to life.</p><p>This was their second date and Laurent was so happy he felt like he could cry.</p><p>He knew he was fucked in the best way possible, and he didn’t want it to end.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And you know damn well </em>
</p><p>
  <em> For you, I would ruin myself </em>
</p><p>
  <em> A million little times </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Laurent looked at Damen from across the office. </p><p>Damen was smiling while talking to another business partner, looking like sunshine personified. He was all broad shoulders and beautiful lies from his point of view and Laurent wanted more.</p><p>He thought that he could do everything to really have Damen. To be able to cross the room and take his hand. To smile with him. To kiss him in a public space that wasn’t a town distant. To be able to call him his, to be able to tell this to everyone and scream to the world that this amazing man was his lover. </p><p>He could climb mountains. He could swim across oceans. He could kill and die for this man that was pure light and pure chaos. That showed him all these new colors, all this new language that is love. Even if troubled and complicated, it was still love and devotion in all its purest form.</p><p>And then, Damen looked back. And everything was fine, because even if Laurent couldn’t scream to the world, who mattered the most knew how he felt.</p><p>He knew.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So there it is!<br/>This is my first fic in AO3 - anywhere, actually - and I hope you liked it.<br/>Comments and kudos are very much welcome! I want to hear your thoughts on this and I would like to know other interpretations for this song as well if you feel like sharing it with me.<br/>I wanted to thank my beta for reading this on a whim in the middle of the night, correcting it, and encouraging me to post it even though they told me they hated me for making them cry with this.<br/>I cried writing this too, Edu. I did.<br/>You can find them on twitter by @legitblackthorn and here on AO3 (with some pretty incredible fanfiction for the All For the Game fandom that I betaed) by moonqueerdom.<br/>And you can find me on twitter by @neiljstwn, as well.<br/>Thank you so much for reading this!  &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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